Well, I worked pretty hard on this chapter. I've been waiting a long time to actually air this, so er… don't rip it apart basically. It's about goddamn time, but now everything is coming to a full circle. Once this is done, things will never be the same…

The thanks: To JakMar, thanks for the review! As for your protests in regard to Ulfric, wait until next chapter I guess. You'll see what happens. To General 77, I'm glad you like the characters and stories! The Ralof chapter was a little iffy, and hopefully this one is much better. Also, I love reviews. They're kind of my drug so if you want to review each time, go ahead! To BrunetteAuthorette99, thanks for the review! I like your thoughts and the arrow to the knee thing! Delphine hater, thanks for the review! Gald you liked Ralof's anger reference and also this one is longer! To HereLies, thanks for the review. I am immensely pleased you picked up on the arrow thing in regard to Darien and Ulfric. I like putting in that stuff. I have one I put in ages ago, that will come true soon. As for Ralof and Jon, well keep reading… To DoctorDovah, thanks for the review. I'm happy you liked Ralof leaving, as I think it is a pretty original idea. Also, glad someone mourned Darien for Ralof. He didn't have time to. To DraGG, thanks for the review. There was your Ralof chapter! I'm glad you like his view of prison. As for the POV, er… I'm changing it. Sorry, but it always changes if I can make it. Only once could it not, in chapter 12 and 13 I think. To RaptorZeroOne, thanks for the review. If it's ever going to happen, your jaw will drop off in the very last chapter because that is EPIC. But not yet here… To hero of all, thanks for the review and story favourite. I'll wait for your reply. And lastly, thank you Do'Ravier for the follower thing! Cheers guys!

Imperials- 4, Stormcloaks- 4, Other- 3 (I think the score stands as such now.)

Jon Dovahkiin

Light rushed up on him, and then qethsegol, stone. His body was filled with a pleasant warmth before the landing punched it out of him again. Jon Dovahkiin groaned, his recent wounds burning, and his limbs aching again. He coughed out dirt from his mouth and tasted blood where he had bit his tongue, before dragging himself up slowly, and catching his breath at the site laid out before him.
Sovngarde: It looked just as it had in his dream, with the tumbling hills, clear streams and smooth boulders. Jon stood and gazed over it, his eyes drinking in the sounds and smells. They reminded him of Ysold, and her own hair, tumbling down her shoulders...
But deep inside himself, he knew this wasn't what Sovngarde should be. Vokul praan het. Evil rests here. Jon couldn't imagine a better place, yet it didn't feel right. The air crackled threateningly and shadows hung over the picturesque valley that made up the Nordic paradise. Everything had an air of deceit, and Jon didn't feel safe here.
His rahgot, anger, rose as he realised that Alduin had managed to corrupt even Sovngarde, the purest of things. It wasn't right, and that sent new strength through Jon's veins. He rose properly, ignoring the scratches and bruises he had acquired in Skuldafn, his mind set on only one thing: killing the World Eater.
Alduin's influence was everywhere. Though still beautiful, the sky was dark, shrouding the land in a blue glow. The very heavens themselves writhed with glowing purple anger, and a mist covered the pathways of the valley. But standing still and silent on top of the largest hill, was the Hall of Valour. Jon gazed in wonder at it, before turning his attention to his immediate surroundings.
He stood on a stone porch with a set of steps that connected with a paved path that headed further down into the underworld. Two massive statues flanked the entrance.
Jon Dovahkiin took a deep su'um, breath, and climbed down the steps into the valley. The mist engulfed him, and the Dovahkiin tried to use his thu'um to disperse it, but Alduin's power was too strong. It merely shifted, before returning to choke the air again. He ignored trying to remove the fog, and instead focused on navigating it, treading carefully along the path before seeing a dark shape slumped on the road. As Jon looked closer, he was surprised to recognise the figure of a man. He ran up to him, and shook his arm.
'Are you alright? Do you know the way to the Hall of Valour?'
The man looked up and Jon recoiled, drawing Kodaav. Half the Nord's face was sheared off.
'Ulfric led us up the cliffs. A rock fell on me, and I came here,' he said in a voice choked on blood.
'What do you mean?'
'Ulfric is attacking Solitude. I am just one of many. When we reached top, I was going to burn the city.' The Stormcloak started laughing manically and Jon stepped back, shocked by his madness and strode past him, looking back warily.
The mist was oppressive, but Jon wasn't scared. He wasn't meant to dir, die, yet. Not before seeing Alduin with an army of mutilated...
Wait, the army is the lost souls of Sovngarde, like that man back there. Alduin's going to ignite a civil war in Sovngarde! The longer I wait, the more souls he gathers… Jon started running, fuelled on by his revelation, following the path and using the faint glow of Kodaav to guide him through the valley. The mist dissolved in front of him as he climbed a hill and then he stumbled to a halt, his breath ragged and laced with fear.
Below him was a massive army of dead, mutilated bodies. Dressed mostly in damaged armour with an array of hideous wounds, they marched past, relentless and lost.
Jon watched in vol, horror, before ducking down to avoid their red gaze. He tried to control his breathing but before he could, footsteps sounded behind him. A dead Stormcloak soldier stood over him, it's breath rattling. It reached out a hand for him and Jon slashed wildly. Dust and blood exploded from the wound, spilling over the Dovahkiin and he coughed before leaping up, slamming into the lost soul in the process. It fell and Jon started running, pumping his tired limbs to generate speed. The sound of pursuit sounded behind him and Jon turned to see seven dead soldiers, Imperial and Stormcloak, chasing him, rusted steel in their hands.
The lost dead filled his mind with cold fear and uncertainty. Their red eyes bore Alduin's mark, and in them Jon could see only his own destruction.
He jumped off the path and down a steep hill, hiding behind the crumbled pillars of a nearby temple, only one in many that littered Sovngarde. Dovahkiin watched as they moved towards him, scouring the hill face for any sign of their quarry. Jon drew Kodaav close, but the movement made the blade flash in the dark light. The lost soul's eyes flickered around and they started to descend the hill, quickly making for the temple. Jon knew he couldn't take seven men at once, even dead ones, but he had to try. He realised with a start that he had seen the army, and he remembered the flash of steel; a tuz, blade, falling into his vision. The dream had come true, this was the end.

With this sense of hopelessness came reckless courage. It warmed his limbs and Jon crouched, bouncing, prepared to fight to the end. As the first warrior came up to his pillar, and past, looking round, he swung Kodaav into it's legs. They came away with a shower of dust and Jon stabbed his point through it's neck as it fell. Before he could recover another soul swung its blade at him. Jon dodged to the side and swung his sword one handed down into the soul's shoulder, then knocked another warrior's cut upwards as he pulled his blade out of his last enemy, stabbing the warrior through the chest. Despite their mutilated appearance, the lost souls were strong and still remembered how to fight. Jon gritted his teeth and threw his considerable weight behind each strike, but his weariness was mounting up again. Sweat pricked his brow and before he knew it, Jon was retreating back, parrying their blows.

He saw Ysold's face in his mind, closing the door in Whiterun, and rahgol, rage, boiled up inside him. Anger fuelled by regret and indecision. Another axe blow came down, but Jon caught it in Kodaav's hilt and pushed upwards, exposing his opponents chest and then slamming his sword through the broken mail of the soul's armour.

But in that time, the other warriors descended. One blade caught his shoulder and he fell. The skyforge steel took the blow easily, but then the souls circled him, raising their weapons in preparation to hack Jon apart. He bowed his head, waiting for evitable…

A roar pierced the night. Jon thought it was Alduin, here to witness his defeat, but then he noticed that it was lower and deeper… Paarthurnax's roar…

The white dragon's landing shook the ground when he landed, tearing up the grass. His tail whipped out, ripping apart the warriors in one blow as it whished round Jon. He looked up in gratitude and surprise to see the dovah standing over him, young and sparkling, his wings whole and smooth, his scales dazzling.

'Lok thu'um, Dovahkiin. It is good to see you.'

'Paarthurnax?' Jon asked in disbelief. 'You're dead.'

'Ah, but we are in Sovngarde, no? Su'um ahrk morah.'

'I didn't realise dovah went to Sovngarde,' Jon admitted weakly, picking up his sword as he recovered from his brush with death.

'We are a Nordic… image. Thus, we fight well and so we go to our paradise to become unslaad, immortal. Father Akatosh, in his wisdom, sent me here and now zu'u lost daal, I have returned, in your hour of need. I had believed my part done, but with my brother's invasion it appears that I have a purpose still. It would appear that it has been realised through you.'

Jon nodded, and let out a small smile. 'It's good to see you again, Paarthurnax.'

'And you, Dovahkiin. I have been awaiting your arrival most eagerly. I am pleased to see that the man, and not the boy, survived my physical death.'

Jon rubbed his jaw, feeling his heavy stubble. 'Indeed. It wasn't easy.'

'It never is. Now, are you ready to complete your destiny?'

'Take me to Alduin and I'll do what I have to.'

'Krosis. You cannot reach him now, not with his lahvu, army, all around.'

Jon kicked one of the dead souls bodies that lay at his feet in his frustration. 'Gruth ahrk dukaan! His army of betrayers.'

'No, Dovahkiin! Enslaved unjustly, and in the worst of states. They are all heroes who have not yet reached the Hall of Valour. Is it their fault that a god enslaved them?'

'No,' Jon said, tightly, acknowledging his mistake.

'Do not disrespect them, Dovahkiin. Drem yol nok. Each and every one earned their place here. Now, as I was saying you cannot reach my zeymah, brother, alone. I have been asked to carry you to the Great Hall by King Shor, Lord of Sovngarde. This, I plan to do.'

'You're going to take me to the Hall to find help?' Jon asked. 'Paarthurnax, I can do this alone.'

'The deed you will, but even you cannot defeat an army. Now come, we must go quickly before Alduin realises you are here.'

Jon didn't want to accept anymore help, but he couldn't deny the dovah. He sheathed Kodaav and climbed onto Paarthurnax as he had with Odahviing. As soon as he ready, the wuth dovah, old dragon, launched himself off of the ground, ripping up the ground, and rose quickly into the air.

From this position Jon could see over the whole land, even when it was wreathed in fog, and through broken patches of the mist he could see Alduin's vast army, crawling through the valley, a massive line of death. A thought struck the Dragonborn.

'It was you I saw in my dream when I was in Whiterun.'

'Hin ko Sotru? Yes, I did contact you, trying to let you to see what was happening in an attempt to hasten your arrival.'

'It worked,' Jon said dryly as he surveyed the landscape. They continued the rest of the flight in silence.

The Hall of Valour rose before them, on a hill cut off from the world, dominating the land and shining even in the dark. It was a massive mead hall, built of glossy brown wood, smooth as a varnished table. Jon looked down to see a massive whalebone bridge connecting the Hall to the rest of the land and he caught his breath in awe. It was only then that he noticed Paarthurnax landing.

'What are you doing?'

'You, Dovahkiin, must first earn the right to cross the bridge, granted only by Lord Tsun.'

Jon knew that he couldn't argue with the dovah, and so instead nodded his consent and jumped off the dragon as he touched the ground, landing heavily, his limbs weary. Jon stumbled up the last part of the path, not covered in fog, to be greeted by a huge bron, Nord, with a massive axe on his back.

'Greetings, stranger. You are not dead,' he said frankly.

'No, I'm not,' Jon agreed. 'Can I pass?'

'By what right?'

Jon was thrown off guard; didn't know what to say. By what right do I have to cross? I haven't defeated Alduin, fought in a battle… I haven't even told my wife I'm sorry for everything I've done. I've taken her home, and even then I hadn't even returned as the same man. Tears threatened to emerge but Jon pushed them back angrily, his throat tight was emotion. What do I have, but a chance at birth? A freak accident that could have happened to anyone, but the Gods chose me...

'I have no right, but birth,' Jon said, his voice cracked with sudden emotion. 'I am the Dragonborn and I've come to liberate Sovngarde and kill my enemy. Is that not enough?'

Tsun looked satisfied by his display of true purpose and feeling. 'It is, Dovahkiin. Long have I awaited you, and now here you are.' He turned to Paarthurnax. 'Mighty old one. I welcome your wisdom back.'

'As I welcome your courage, Lord Tsun.'

The huge God turned back to Jon. 'In there are the legacies of many, Dovahkiin. Including yours. I warn you now, you will never be the same.'

'I never was,' he replied simply, before stepping past Tsun and climbing over the bridge, careful to keep his footing on the slippery qeth, bone. Paarthurnax soared over and landed by the huge doors, wide enough to accommodate him, and waited for Jon.

The Dragonborn made his way over the bridge and strode up next to the dragon, eying the door warily. 'What did he mean by the legacies of many?'

'What do you think?' Paarthurnax said, looking at Jon strangely. With that he pushed open the door with his head and it swung back easily, despite its immense size. They entered, before it closed on their backs and Jon was met by an amazing site.

The Hall was massive, and faad, warm. A huge feast table dominated the centre but all kinds of activities were available on two raised sections either side of the main hall. Archery, sword arenas, even areas to advance magical interests existed and also on these side sections were hundreds of doors leading to rooms. A golden light, friendly, but also fiery, covered everything and at the head of the feast table was a large, ornate silver throne. Jon turned his attention away from this site and descended the steps to the main floor. Paarthurnax followed him, nudging Dovahkiin in a specific direction so that he found himself in front of three warriors.

Jon was instantly struck by their likeness, and he realised that he had seen them before, in Paarthurnax's memory. With his own miin, eyes, though, he could see finer details. The younger man and women both shared the same yellowy blond hair as Ulfric Stormcloak, with the man taking his same eyes and jaw, while the women took his cheekbones. Jon realised that they must be kin. The older man was tall and unbent with startling green eyes, and grey hair.

As he approached them, the younger man turned and let out a bellowing cry. 'Here he is, the youngest among us. He looks good, a true Stormcloak.' He made his way over to Jon and embraced him in a bear hug, crushing the life from the Dragonborn's bones. 'Your birth may be as black as your hair, but I consider you my true born kin.'

Jon was dazed by the hug and what the man was saying but before he could recover, the woman strode forward. 'Yes, Jon Stormcloak. It is good to see you. Long have we waited and watched.'

'Stormcloak?' Jon asked, alarmed. 'What are you-'

Before he could finish a quiet voice broke the air. 'Jon.'

He turned to come face to face with a woman in her late twenties, with black hair and blue eyes. It was his mother, as she had looked when he was about fourteen, when he had last seen her. 'Mother?' Emotion rushed through him and he embraced her, hugging her tightly.

'You are bigger than you were when you left me,' Alea told him, mildly affronted that he had grown without her.

Jon was smiling, before he grasped what had happened. 'You, wait, this is Sovngarde. What are you doing here?'

His mother looked at him sadly. 'I died, as we all do eventually.'

'How?' He asked, shocked and angry. 'Who?'

'I died protecting your father.'

Jon didn't think he could be more shocked, but the last word threw him over. 'My father?' He breathed, not quite believing.

'In Falkreath. I think it's time I told you everything. Believe me when I say I had the very best reasons to do what I did. When you were born I wasn't sure if he would love you, or accept you, and I didn't want you to be held back by something that could have happened, but never did. But now I can't hide it any longer.'

'Jon, my son, you are the heir to Windhelm. Your father is Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak.'

And now I might point out the comment Delphine hater made back in chapter 48. 'Jon will make a better Stormcloak', Obviously in regard to the factions of Imperial and Stormcloak, but its so ironic I had to mention it now. (I mean no offense, Delphine hater. I love the comment. It's so brilliant because of what has now happened and what will happen.)

As General 77 said, I'm addicted to reviews so please post one, or I'm be in withdrawal. Thanks guys! Damn, I've been waiting to reveal this for AGES! You guys probably already knew, but still- IT'S OFFICIAL!